Sometimes when I’m seeking comfort, I’ll think back to when we would spend summers together. After a night full of video games and laughter, we’d sneak onto the front porch at 3 am where you’d light a cigarette and take small tokes while talking about life. Your life. My life. Dreams. Aliens. Nothing was untouchable between the two of us.
I can still feel myself sitting in that wooden rocking chair, watching you look out into the woods, your hand on your hip and the cigarette between your fingers. In this moment you’re still my childhood best friend. Nothing matters. We’re just two souls, sitting on a porch on a hot Alabama summer night.